He rescued her
by Fenris's Slytherin Princess
Summary: A story through F!Hawke and Fenris's struggle to come to terms with their feelings, and feelings for other people. Seamus/F!Hawke, Fenris/F!Hawke, Fenris/Isabela, Carver/Merrill. FINISHED
1. Chapter 1

AU- Seamus and Anders and Orsino and Viscount Dumar survive. Bodhan and Sandal stay in Kirkwall. Dalish Warden.

Hawke strolled happily along the Wounded Coast, thinking to herself. For once, she was on her own, completely unguarded, and enthralled in her own mind. She rested upon a large rock, facing the shipwreck overlooking the Viscount's Keep. She sighed, happily. Her life had gotten slightly better once she'd become Champion and battled Meredith.

Carver had come home from the Grey Wardens, albeit not forever, but at least the estate wasn't as lonely as it had been previously.

Isabela had gotten her ship, and although Hawke had paid for half of it, it was worth it to see one of her best friend's smiles alight.

Merrill had seemed to settle into the alienage more and treated Orana as a friend, rather than 'just another elf'.

Anders was back in his clinic, but this time it was him being treated for wounds. He'd gotten badly injured during the mage/Templar war, leaving him almost paralyzed. Luckily, Hawke and Merrill stepped in, assisting the healers in any way they could.

Aveline was happily married to Guardsman Donnic and according to Varric's sources- and his sources are _always _good- there might be a little Vallen running around the barracks soon.

Fenris had disappeared since the war, only muttering things about going back to Tevinter… That worried Hawke. However, Isabela did mention receiving a letter from Fenris, but she couldn't tell her what was said. Something dirty probably.

Varric was still staying in the Hanged Man, despite numerous attempts for him to move in the Amell Estate. And as always, the bard-like dwarf was spinning stories of Hawke's tales; how she defeated the Arishock single headedly, "deflowering" the Deep Roads, and delving into the Fade were but a few of his favourites.

She sighed again, with a sadder tone. She missed her mother. How could that sick bastard do that to such an innocent woman? She'd done nothing but good for the Hawke family in her life as a mother; her only crime was loving Malcolm. All she'd wanted since she'd had her children was to make sure than Marian and Bethany were away from the Templar's gaze. Leandra would be so proud of Hawke, how she'd moved on and progressed.

She'd be thrilled with Aveline, married and possibly pregnant! She'd secretly loved Isabela, looking after all her friends; she may have a promiscuous past, but she was kind hearted. And she'd loved the Orana had fitted in with their group, being taken under the wing by the one girl that probably needed it the most herself.

Hawke sighed, picking a flower and inhaling its beautiful scent. She missed Bethany dearly. How she'd cried for years, wishing that it was her instead of her sister. Her sister; so rare, so pure, so elegant, so new- fresh for the world. She was a smart girl, Bethany, and Hawke knew that she didn't attack the ogre on a whim; she had a high chance of winning. Hawke smiled. She'd lost almost all of her family, with Gamlen and Charade taking a ship back to Ferelden to start anew.

But her life wasn't all that bad, luckily all of her companions had survived the two wars of Kirkwall, and a certain Viscount's son took a shine to her. Marian walked slowly down a slope, before being stopped in her tracks. In front of the path she wished to walk down, there were a group of five or six slavers. "Shit." She whispered. They were, quite obviously, slavers; they wore a black mask and silver-iron armour, most had a long sword, and a large, rectangular, iron shield with notches on.

She was defenceless. She'd foolishly left her staff at home, feeding Carver the obvious lie that she was only going to the market. She didn't _always _want to be Hawke- Champion of Kirkwall, the girl that stole Seamus' heart, the girl who turned down Viscount- she still wanted to be Marian Amell, lady of leisure, married and giving her mother kids that she could never hold. She didn't even don her usual robes, she'd put on a simple silk blouse, and plain trousers. She didn't expect to be ambushed!

She panicked as the first two slavers advanced on her. She picked up a nearby rock, about the size of a child's fist, and lobbed it at the slaver on the right. It hit, and knocked him clean out. She screamed. For once, she wasn't being brave, she was being realistic. If she didn't get help soon, she'd be pulverised.

She kept screaming. She'd managed to finish off the first two, but she hadn't brought any lyrium potions with her, and her mana was already running low. She felt two hands on her shoulder, turning her around to face an oversized rock. She saw a flash of blue and the clunk of swords on the sand. "A-Anders?" Hawke stuttered, still facing the rock. The footsteps reached closer to her, until she felt the blue glow die down, and a hand on her shoulder once again.

"Not even close, my dear Hawke." It was Fenris, not Anders, or Isabela, or Varric, or even Aveline, it was Fenris, _her _Fenris, her best friend. She gasped, and stood up to face him. He was smiling brightly, she'd missed that smile. It was almost a year since she'd seen him, and she felt tears welling up as she wrung her hands. His markings had stopped glowing, but Hawke could plainly see that he was in pain. "Thank you." She finally managed. "You saved my life." Fenris smiled a softer smile, and took one of her hands into his, just rubbing over the back of her hand, calming her down. "I know." Hawke sniffled as he spoke, turning to walk back to Kirkwall, and to the Hanged Man for a stiff drink.


	2. Chapter 2- A kiss to destroy all kisses

Hawke walked home, at three in the morning, slightly drunk. She'd retold the story of Fenris's dashing rescue in the tavern at least seven times over, and had a drink for each time she told it- luckily she could handle her drink better than most, being from Ferelden. Everybody else was too drunk to take her home, so she was _just _able to make it back herself. She tried to pick the lock but failed, so she banged on the heavy wooden door carelessly.

"Open up Bodhan!" She giggled loudly as she heard footsteps coming into the foyer. When the door swung open, letting the cold of the night into the estate, it wasn't Bodhan that greeted Marian; it was her brother, Carver. "Where have you been?" He asked, stepping to the side to let his sister in.  
"Drinking!" She smiled, hugging him. He pushed her off so she stumbled back a few feet.  
"I can tell!" He grimaced, "And smell…" He waved his hand in front of his mouth comically, and continued, "Seamus is here. He's been waiting hours for you!"

Hawke hiccupped, and fumbled into her pocket for some lipstick. She carefully applied it, and wandered into the drawing room, where Seamus was stood, staring into the fireplace. "Hello." He smiled, holding out a hand for Hawke to shake. She smiled, and did so. "Seamus." She muttered, walking over next to him. She'd taken quite the shine to him, and was astounded why he'd come to visit her. "Why are you here?"  
"I wanted to visit you when you were Lady Amell, not Hawke." He smiled, and put his hand down by his side, brushing it with Hawke's.

She blushed, and looked into the fire. "Mother would have loved this," She paused, and looked at him, "Us. Acting like… this." Seamus smiled at her as she continued speaking, "I'm glad, after everything, that we still talk. You're an amazing young man, Seamus."  
"And you're a dashing young woman, Marian Amell." Hawke smiled as Seamus pulled her into him. He looped one arm over her shoulder, and pulled her down on the chair behind them.

The pair talked and laughed into the wee hours of the morning. "Shit!" Seamus exclaimed as he gazed out the window. Hawke laughed at his use of language as he blushed, "I've got to go!"  
"I'll walk you to the Keep!" Hawke smiled, grabbing one of her old staffs that occupied the drawing room.

She opened the front door for Seamus, and the two started walking to the Keep. When the Chantry was in sight, Seamus wrapped his hand around Marian's, making her blush red. They walked hand in hand until they reached the Keep, where Seamus paused. "Haw- Lady Amell…" He pulled her into his body, and kissed her softly on the lips, then ran up the stairs to the Keep.

Marian blushed when he left, staring in awe at the marble archway, she fiddled with her hair. She'd decided to grow it out a little, so she could style it better. She'd have to if she was going to attend more noble parties. Hawke slunk back to the estate happily, and went to bed without disturbing anybody.

Fenris watched. He sat on the ledge of his open window that looked over the Viscount's Keep, and he watched Seamus kiss Hawke, and he'd watched her skip all the way past his mansion, without looking over to the window where he sat, like she always did.

He walked slowly to the cellar, and grabbed a few bottles of wine. He walked back up to his room, and started on the first. "Bah!" He laughed to himself after finishing the bottle. "Stupid girl! I save her! I become the hero- _I _should be getting the kiss! Not that toffed up, rich twat!" He smirked to himself, "He's not nearly exotic enough for our Hawke! He's the same as every noble and noble's son in Kirkwall! Boring, plain, and not stream lined with lyrium!" He opened a second bottle of wine. Then a third. And by the fourth, he was crying. "I should be her hero, her knight in shining armour! He can't even fight! She'd be dead if it wasn't for me…"

He broke down, and threw the bottles at the wall- even the full ones. He couldn't stand to watch his Hawke be taken by a noble; she deserved excitement, not dinner parties and posh frocks. He climbed out of his window, and sat on the ledge again. He was still sobbing, but at least he'd stopped drinking. He sighed, and looked over at the Keep. "I'd go in and kill him myself but Aveline would slaughter me." He laughed.

He'd been away for a year, and he'd only just realised how he'd missed everyone. He'd missed Varric's knack of pleasing and getting along with everyone- except the Merchant's Guild. He'd missed Merrill (though he could never say) and her un-emptying pool of pity for him. He missed Aveline's unwavering sense of justice. And he missed Justice, and his strong voice inside Anders. And he missed Anders healing him, and he hated that he hated anybody else doing so. He missed Isabela and her… forward comments about his clothing, and the occasional "good night's sleep" with her.

He missed Carver and his blunt oppression of mages, despite his hypocrisy from Hawke. Carver was probably one of his closest friends within the group, and he could relate to him the most. He, like Fenris, had his life dictated by mages, not in the same way as Fenris, he was not held prisoner and forced to work. Actually, he thought, he was more like Fenris that first appearances dictate. Both his sisters and his father were mages, and he'd had to protect them, keep the out of the way of Templar's and keep them strong enough to resist demons, he'd been working for mages his whole life, not in the exact way as Fenris, but it may as well be, as Fenris saw Carver's pain.

And he missed Hawke the most, more than he probably should; her cropped, black hair, her crystal blue eyes, the scar upon her face, her curves- Everything.

He sighed, stripped down to his smalls and climbed into bed.

Down below Fenris's mansion, Carver was leaning against a pillar, looking up at the window where Fenris once sat. Carver, like the elf, had hot tears pricking at his eyes. He was fond of Fenris, there was mutual respect there, and he was quite funny in his own way.

And it killed him, as he watched his bedroom window, that Hawke had hurt him this way. Oh yes, he'd heard what Fenris was saying- he was a loud drunk. He knew what he felt all too well. He kicked a stone, and thought of Merrill. How beautifully unusual the young Dale was. She was outstanding, strong and peaceful, everything he needed after years of the Grey Wardens.

He pulled his sword out, and fondled the hilt. He smiled as he traced the two griffons on the handle. Then he frowned, thinking back to Fenris. He'd never heard him cry, he didn't think anyone else had either. It'd break Hawke if she found out, but maybe she needed to know exactly what was going on.


	3. Chapter 3- The exhausted brother

"_Marian Hawke!"_ Carver slammed on her door when the clocks struck in the morning. Hawke groaned, and rolled over, hoping it was a dream. It was, however, not. Carver burst in to find his sister sprawled out, in her finery, on her bed. He sighed, and strode in, poking her arm.

"What?" She asked. She still sounded a bit drunk, maybe she'd had more to drink when she'd gotten in? "What have you done?" Carver eyed up his sister, and watched her slowly stir. He was disgusted in Marian, how could she upset him? He wasn't exactly innocent- he'd never made his feelings clear, but still! "What?!" Hawke got up, spinning around to look at her brother.

She was pale from the night before, and her eyes were red. Crying, maybe? She was probably just hung-over. "What in Thedas have you done to Fenris?!" Carver looked questioningly at his sister, his tone harsh and firm.  
"Nothing!" She protested, standing up to face him. "Why?" She sounded concerned, "Is he okay?" Her faced went from an angry red to a pale white in a split second. Carver looked at her, and noticed how dark her usually crystal blue eyes were.

"**NO, HE IS NOT OKAY!**" Carver shouted at his sister. He started to tremble with anger, his vision turning from clear to a hazed red. "**HE'S PROBABLY STILL DRUNK! AND CRYING!" **Carver turned, and slammed his arm against the wall, and out his head against it. He took three deep breaths. "I don't know what you did, Marian, but fix it."

Hawke's face was still pale by the time her brother had turned around; they stood in silence, glaring at one another until Hawke broke the peace. "I'll fix it, Carver." She put her hand on his arm, and frowned. "I promise." He smiled, and put his opposing hand on her shoulder. She nodded, and turned back to the bed, where she'd accidently left a bottle of aggregio. "Fenris's favourite." She smiled to herself.  
"Hey?" Carver only just heard Marian's voice, and wondered what she'd said.  
"How do you know he was crying?" Hawke turned back to face Carver, her voice sincere.  
"I was out walking last night." He sighed. "He was draped out of his bedroom window, whining in a drunken haze. His face was red and… I assumed." Carver looked at his sister one last time before walking out of her room, leaving her to change.


	4. Chapter 4- The Elf Warden Calls

Marian Amell sat in the drawing room, playing the lute for Orana. She heard loud footsteps from upstairs, and told Orana to wait whilst she saw to her brother. She got up silently, and stood in the doorway. "Where are you going?"

Carver jumped at the sound of his sister's voice. He turned to face her, and went red. "To… Uh… See Merrill." Hawke smiled sweetly. She was fond of Merrill, and she certainly approved of her and her brother's match. She was calm, Carver was not, she hadn't changed in the years, Carver had, she was slow, and Carver was not. They'd be good for each other.

She nodded, and went to turn back to her lute playing. "And what are you doing today?" It was still early, but Marian _had _gotten up in time for breakfast, despite her headache. "Fix things." She sighed. Carver seemed pleased, and added, "Why?"

Hawke shook her head from inside the drawing room. "Because… I… love him." She muttered, and picked up her lute. "Who do you love, oh sister, dear?" Carver taunted, pushing his luck, he knew.  
"Go see Merrill!" She plucked the lute and started singing with the young elf.

Carver always got funny looks when he went to the Alienage. It was understandable, Merrill had said, a Grey Warden, in _their _Alienage?! Absurd. Carver walked to the tree, and lit a candle for Malcolm, Leandra and Bethany.

"So much loss…" He heard a voice behind him, and dropped the matches suddenly. "Oh! Aren't you silly!" It was Merrill. He could tell by the blush that had arisen upon his face. "Oh… Hello Merrill." She offered him a hand. He took it, and got up. Merrill smiled, and pointed to her house. She watched him walk in.

"Sit down!" She beamed, obviously pleased to see the young Hawke. Carver did so, pulling up a chair opposite Merrill's. "I missed you…" She admitted shyly. She sipped her drink, and smiled behind her cup. "I missed you too." Carver felt bolder than the elven girl, as he could see pink grace her cheeks lightly. She smiled as she put her cup down.

"Tell me about the Grey Wardens!" Her smile softened as she spoke, "Our best hunter became a Warden…" She frowned, "Poor Mahariel… You've heard of her, Carver?" Carver put his head on the side, obviously thinking.  
"What was her first name?" He asked politely, unsure if he had heard of the young Dale or not. Merrill smiled.

It'd been years since she'd seen Lyna, but she'd often thought about her, and her betrothed's fate. Poor Tamlen, the kindest of souls, most witted and the second most skilled hunter from her clan. "Lyna." She gestured for Carver to wait a moment. She got up, and fished out a small portrait from a desk drawer.

She presented it to Carver. Carver took it gently into his hands, and examined the three smiling faces that stared back at him.

On the left, was Merrill, but obviously a lot younger. Her dark brown hair was still in its braids, but longer. She also didn't don her traditional staff, she had a simple, white one, possibly stolen from a local circle. Her green eyes glimmered through effect, but to Carver, she still looked beautiful when she was painted. She smiled a modest smile in the portrait; her pale pink lips complimenting her rosy cheeks.

In the middle, was a young male elf, around Merrill's age. He had sandy-blonde hair and vibrant blue eyes. He was smiling a toothy smile, and was very close to the two elven children beside him. On his back, you could make out a bow and quiver, with carvings on them. His hand hovered over Merrill's shoulder, but his hand was firmly linked with the girl's on the right.

On the right, was another female elf, and by the looks of things, she was a year younger than the boy, but her eyes looked sad. She had flaming red hair, and pale white skin. Her eyes, too, where likes Merrill's, but a darker green, and more almond shaped.

Carver stared at the red haired girl, glancing over at the painted Merrill. "I served under her…" Carver blushed furiously. Merrill just giggled, had she grown up? "I mean, I served under her. She's a formidable archer." Merrill smiled proudly.

Carver handed her the portrait back, and smiled sweetly. "We stayed with your tribe- clan for a few weeks while Nathaniel healed. They send their best, Merrill." He stood up, and put his hands softly on her shoulders, "They don't hate you." Merrill let him hug her. He whispered into the top of her head, "Da'vhenan, emm'asha, ma sa'lath. Ma'arlath."  
She gripped him tightly around the waist. "I love you too."


	5. Chapter 5- Confrontation

Fenris woke up late afternoon, alone. He rolled over, falling on the stone floor, shivering in its coldness. "Bugger…" He muttered, standing up. He went to put on a shirt but he stopped, and realised his anger. He was _still _made at Seamus. He knew what he was going to do. He picked up his great sword, put on his armour, and raced out of his home.

"Seamus!" He called as he ran into the Viscount's Keep, making his presence very much aware by everyone in the building. As it was late afternoon, so the keep was packed with people wishing to see the Viscount. "Seamus, make your stand here!" Fenris yelled, growling at the guards who were trying to take him away.  
"Fenris." He heard a voice behind him, but to his dismay, it was not Seamus, it was Aveline, and she was stood with Hawke, Carver and Merrill. Fenris's face was a deep red, not with embarrassment, but with anger. Aveline stepped, and reached her hand out for Fenris to take. He refused it.  
"**SEAMUS**." His voice echoed. He heard footsteps from the throne room. Seamus stepped out from behind a pillar, and smiled at Hawke. She reluctantly waved back, smiling. Her face glowed a happy pink as she saw Seamus. Fenris's face only turned an even angrier shade of red. Seamus mouthed 'it's okay' to Hawke, who nodded, and put her staff back behind her back. Everybody else dropped their weapons too.  
"Yes, Fenris?" Seamus started to walk down the stairs. "Lower your weapons- only a coward hides behind a sword bigger than himself." Fenris growled, but dropped his sword. Looking back, the only clear reason to anybody for Fenris dropping his sword was his love for Hawke.  
"Fine." He muttered as the sword clattered to the floor. "We'll settle this like men." Hawke, at this point, stepped forward, and put her arm gently on Fenris's, then walked forward to Seamus. She muttered something into his ear, but he shook his head, "No, Hawke, I _do _have to do this." He called Fenris up. Fenris happily obliged, walking to meet the man on the stairs. Fenris frowned at Hawke. "I'm sorry." He punched Seamus full-blown in the nose, making it bleed, and possibly breaking it.  
"How dare you?!" Hawke burst out, lunging forward at Fenris, tears suddenly streaming down her face.  
"Don't." Seamus muttered, and strutted out of the Keep, finding someone to heal his broken nose. Hawke ran into the Throne Room, sobbing into the sleeve of her robes. Fenris turned to pick up his sword. He placed it on his back, and made his way to the Throne room, where he'd find Hawke.  
"FENRIS!" Aveline called after him, pulling his arm. "Don't you dare upset her again, mister. Or I'll have your head."

"Hawke…" Fenris walked into the throne room, to find his love sprawled out on the floor, her entire face red. "You had no right…" she said, biting back tears.  
"I know." He walked over to her, and crouched next to her. "I'm so sorry…" he forced the tears out, showing his 'human' side. He reached out and touched her hand. She responded by glaring at him, but not moving her hand away. "Don't tell me you're sorry." Her eyes were a stony blue, and her face was pale behind the red blotches her tears had left. She crawled to her feet, stood up, and faced away from Fenris.  
"When I needed you, where were you?" Her voice was louder than before, but Fenris could hear her struggling to keep calm.  
"I don't understand…" He started, but was abruptly cut off. "When Mother died, where were you?!" she turned around after saying this, and looked him dead in the eyes, making him shiver with fright. "I… I came to see you!" Tears were fully pouring down his face, he felt guilty and angry at himself. She was right, he'd left her.  
"And Bethany's death?" Her voice was shaking, so close to breaking, and was gradually getting more and more irate.  
"I was… With Isabela." He admitted, wiping his eyes. He felt terrible, he'd made a pact with Rivaini- don't tell anyone, especially Hawke. Marian's voice stuttered slightly,  
"You… her?" Fenris could see her trying to piece the information together in her head, slowly coming to terms with the terrible truth. Her heart was broken. Suddenly, Fenris heard her staff unsheathe. It was being aimed at his throat. "Get out." She whispered. He could feel her mana flowing through his lyrium, and knew what this meant. He dropped his sword to his feet, and he ran. He ran out of the Keep, out of Kirkwall- and if he could make it, out of the Free Marches.


End file.
